


Life is Anything But Fair

by gluedwithgold



Series: The Hidden Love Trilogy [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Community: smpc, Drunk Sam Winchester, Guilty Sam Winchester, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:58:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold/pseuds/gluedwithgold
Summary: Sam can't keep his thoughts where he thinks they should be.





	Life is Anything But Fair

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly stolen from Kaleo's "All the Pretty Girls". 
> 
> Written for [Sunday Morning Porn Club](http://smpc.livejournal.com/) on LiveJournal.
> 
> Part Two of The Hidden Love Trilogy.  
> Part One is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167113)
> 
> I might get to part three this decade? /o\

Sam woke, dim grey light filtering through the curtains of their motel room from the parking lot. The pounding in his head was only overshadowed by the throbbing of his dick trapped in too-tight jeans. He glanced to the side, saw his brother there in his bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady, slow rhythm. 

The previous night came flooding back to Sam, and he felt his face heat up. He’d been an idiot in that bar. At least Dean had dragged him out of there before he did anything really dumb. He’d just wanted to forget. Or maybe to remember, to pretend. His heart still ached for Jessica, even now, months later. He just wanted to feel warm and safe, protected and protective. He knew, even while he was doing it, those girls weren’t going to even come close to filling that void. No one could. 

If he was being really honest, even Jessica never really filled it. Sam didn’t care for that much honesty, though. She’d come close, but…. 

The words he’d mumbled to Dean when they got home started filtering in, and Sam pushed them aside. Dean would never mention it, so Sam could pretend it never happened. It was better that way. And if Dean did mention it, Sam could play it off as a dumb, drunken joke. Of course he didn’t really think Dean wanted to fuck him. That’s ridiculous. They’re brothers. Sam pushed those thoughts aside again. 

The dream he’d been having before waking took over in his mind, a memory from years ago when Sam was still a teenager. One of those stolen moments of normalcy when Dad had left them on their own and they could pretend monsters and hunting didn’t exist. One of the happy times. 

They’d found a swimming hole a few miles from the cabin they were holed up in. It’d been the end of summer, one of those days that the heat seeped under your skin and wouldn’t let go, and they were both getting cranky. It was Dean’s idea to follow the river that ran past the cabin to find a spot to swim. That was back when everything Dad did was wrong and Dean was always right, so Sam had no problem following his brother out into the woods. 

They swam for hours, stripped down to their underwear, taking breaks to sun themselves on the rocky bank when the cold water got to be too much. But that’s not how Sam’s dream had gone. In his dream, they were naked. In his dream, instead of splashing each other and hurling insults back and forth, they were wrapped around each other in the water. In his dream, they shared the same sun-warmed rock. Sam could still feel the burn of it on his back and the press of Dean’s body on top of his. 

He took a deep breath and forced the imagery from his head. He shifted around on the creaky mattress, pulled off his jeans then slid between the sheets. He closed his eyes tight against the spinning and nausea the movement caused, rolled over to his side, back to his sleeping brother. 

He’d thought he was free of these thoughts. Since leaving for college he’d only had the occasional dream, but once Dean came to get him, and then Jess… it had all come flooding back. All his teenage fantasies edged into his mind every time he laid a hand on himself now, no matter how he tried to replace green eyes and freckles with blond curls and soft curves. 

Across the room, Dean let out a low moan, a sleep-addled sound that Sam had heard a million times before. Sam’s cock twitched against the fabric of his boxers, the ache nowhere near fading. He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t fall back to sleep without release, and slid his hand under his waistband. 

He tried to think of Jess, her smile, the way she’d gasp when Sam’s mouth would wrap around a nipple. It worked for a while, and Sam stroked up and down his dick with images of her long hair flowing forward as she rode him, those quiet times in the middle of the night, just a candle on the nightstand for light the way she liked it. 

But soon Jess morphed into Dean, soft curves turned into hard muscles and Sam’s thrusting hips turned into Dean’s. Sam went with it this time, letting himself feel his brother’s weight on top of him. 

It wasn’t difficult to imagine – before Jess, there’d been guys. A few drunken nights in dorm rooms, and that one in high school with the freckles and green eyes that reminded him of his brother. 

He could almost feel the scrape of Dean’s stubble against his neck as his brother sucked bruises into the sensitive skin there. Sam arched his back, pushing his cock through the ring of his fingers, tightening his grip as he spread precome down his shaft. That stubble dragged down his neck to his chest, scraping across his nipple as Dean lowered himself, those plump lips sliding over his skin until they wrapped around the hard peak and sucked. 

Sam rolled back over flat on the mattress so he could let his legs fall open. He slid his free hand up under his shirt, fingers pinching and twisting his nipple, the sensation ripping a gasp from his throat. 

In the other bed, Dean let out a snore, the sound freezing Sam’s movements. With eyes clenched shut, Sam waited and listened. The bedcovers shuffled as Dean rolled over, sighing as he settled on his stomach. Sam should get up, close himself in the bathroom to finish, but his hand started moving again despite the trembling in his stomach, fear of being caught egging him on even though the heat he felt in his cheeks was more from embarrassment than arousal. Now he imagined Dean watching him – both of them naked, spread out on their separate beds, his brother’s eyes glued to his body. Dean’s tongue slipped out to run across those full lips, leaving them glistening. Sam thrust his hips upward, his cock slipping through the ring of his hand, the head poking up and out, leaking more. 

He imagined Dean getting up, slowly, walking the few steps between the beds and kneeling down, his hands landing on Sam’s knees as he moved himself between Sam’s legs. Dean’s hands slid down the inside of Sam’s thighs, pressing them open further. Sam let Dean move him however he wanted. Of course. 

Sam’s hand gripped tighter, moved faster as Dean leaned forward, his mouth meeting Sam’s skin, warm and wet against the meaty part of his inner thigh. He moved down, licking and sucking as he went, leaving a trail that cooled in the air and threatened to make Sam shiver. 

Sam did shiver when Dean pulled one of his balls into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it, his breath shooting out hot against the base of his dick. Dean sucked as he pulled his mouth back, tugging at the skin of his sack until it dropped from his mouth with a wet pop. Then Dean moved lower, his hands pressing Sam’s legs even further apart until he was totally exposed. Dean’s tongue flickered up and down over Sam’s hole and Sam involuntarily thrust his hips up toward his brother’s face and let out a loud gasp…. 

He froze, quickly turning his head to the side, his heart pounding as he strained to see if the sound had made Dean stir. He lay there, everything but his heart perfectly still, until he was sure Dean was still fast asleep. Then he started again, first breathing, then moving his hand. He reached up with his left hand and sucked on his index finger, coating it with saliva. Reaching past the waistband of his boxers, he pressed the wet finger against his hole, then in, twisting slightly and pushing until it was up to the first knuckle. He could feel the moisture on his rim, the sensation transporting him back into his fantasy, where Dean was pressing his tongue past the outer ring of muscle, spreading Sam open with firm fingers on either side of his ass. Sam worked his finger in time with the vision of Dean’s tongue, fucking himself and tugging faster at his cock. His breath came faster now, sweat breaking out from his stomach to his face. Dean replaced his tongue with a finger, pressing in deeper, seeking, feeling around until Sam’s back arched when he hit the right spot and stars bloomed in his vision. Sam pulled on his dick harder and faster as Dean’s tongue joined his finger, licking around the rim as his finger thrust in and out, hitting his prostate every time. Sam’s body tensed, muscles trembling, then everything let go, his eyes squeezing tight as he felt the wave of orgasm spiral up from his gut and his cock let loose, his come shooting out to pool on his belly. A quiet groan slipped up from his throat as he finished milking his cock, his body relaxing, settling back down on the bed. 

He lay there for a few minutes, catching his breath, until he felt the come cooling on his skin, then he sat up just enough to pull his t-shirt off, using it to wipe his hands and belly. As he dropped it over the side of the bed to the floor, Sam heard an exhalation from the other bed. A sigh. He froze. 

He widened his eyes, trying to see if Dean’s eyes were closed. For a half second, he thought he saw movement, Dean’s eyes shutting like a blink. But they didn’t re-open, and Sam couldn’t be sure…. 

He watched for several long minutes, unmoving on the bed, barely blinking in case he missed something. But Dean was still, his chest rising and falling slow and steady. Finally, Sam’s heart slowed and his brain came back online. It was just a remnant of his fantasy. Wishful thinking. Or fear. His brother was asleep, and had been the whole time. Right? 

Sam rolled over onto his side, facing the wall, and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. It was all just a sick, disturbed fantasy – always had been, always would be. It was a stupid taboo, one Sam would gladly ignore – his feelings for Dean were definitely real, after all – but he could never risk the rift it would put between them if he admitted it to Dean. It wasn’t fair, not by a long shot, that the person he would always love was someone he couldn’t love – but at least he could love him the one way he was allowed. He drifted off to sleep promising himself he’d never run his mouth to his brother like that again, that he could think about it all he wanted, but that’s where it needed to stay. 

 


End file.
